The days passed quickly enough, for after the funeral, there were vast changes to be made as regards our living quarters. Those we had recently inhabited since our marriage were now vacated in favour of the main part of the Hall. Lady Courtney, now as the dowager Lady Courtney, so to speak, moved into the west wing which had been the home of Bassett and myself for such a short time.
‘You will have to take on more of the management of the house now, Louella. I shall insist upon it, even though mother may resist, for I think you should learn the running of this house as soon as possible.’
I felt he was implying that I had much to learn and perhaps he was justified in thinking this, for I had not much idea where to begin or what was expected of me.
‘You’ll also have to accompany me on business trips. I know this is perhaps unusual, women are expected to stay at home. But the trend seems to be that a woman should take more part in her husband’s affairs and I intend to see that you do.’
‘Yes, Bassett,’ I said meekly with far more acquiescence in my tone than I felt, for inwardly I was seething with indignation. But what was the point in showing this feeling? I knew from the past where it would lead me.
So, by degrees, with the patient and understanding help of Georgiana, Jonathan and the kitchen staff, I began to take over the reins as mistress of Courtney Hall. Needless to say, I received no help at all from Lady Courtney, but at least times were a little happier for I saw a good deal less of her than previously.
Millicent returned to the Hall, after a short absence. My newly acquired confidence in managing the household affairs suffered a sharp blow for her vicious tongue never let me forget who I was, nor how I had usurped her rightful position.
Christmas was upon us in no time and Bassett decided that though the Courtney family must, out of customary respect, have only a quiet festival, there was no reason why the villagers should suffer.
‘It’s always been the custom, Louella,’ he told me on one of the many sessions I now had to have in his study, receiving instructions as to what he required me to do. ‘That the Courtneys give a ball for the villagers to attend on New Year’s Eve. Usually we hold our own banquet and ball on Boxing Day for all our family and guests, to which none of the villagers are invited. But on New Year’s Eve we provide the ballroom, the food and leave them to enjoy themselves. The Master of Courtney makes a customary appearance at midnight, but otherwise it is their evening to enjoy in their own way with none of the Courtneys present.’
‘And you want this ball for the villagers still to take place?’ I asked.
‘Yes. I have spoken to one or two of the villagers and though they feel perhaps they ought to join us in our period of mourning, I think that they would feel somewhat disappointed if thwarted of their usual revelry. So we shall still hold that one, but not our own.’
The next weeks therefore, preceding Christmas were for me not only extremely busy, but agonising with all the responsibility of making this banquet a success. Bassett left the entire arrangements to me, and had it not been for Georgiana’s support and advice, no doubt the villages would still be waiting for their evening’s pleasure.
As it was, I managed fairly well and the evening of the ball found me standing in the middle of the vast ballroom surveying the result of my efforts. All the weeks of ordering decorations, flowers, masses of food, an orchestra, all culminated in the result before my eyes.
Bright tinsel hung from every part of the room, shimmering in the soft light of thousands of candles—for what was more romantic than candlelight? A traditional Christmas tree stood in the corner, its topmost point almost touching the ceiling. From every branch there swung a gift for every member of the village. Bassett had said no expense was to be spared, and though I had sometimes wondered at my extravagance, Georgiana assured me that I was spending no more money than usual.
‘Bassett, more than any of his predecessors, yes, even poor, dear father, likes to give his tenants pleasure and reward for their loyalty,’ she told me.
Indeed he does, I thought to myself now as I viewed the result. Above my head hung a huge bunch of mistletoe and as I looked up at it, I visualised many a courtship being sealed beneath it tonight, and maybe several new beginnings.
‘Wishful thinking, Louella?’ a deep voice said behind me, and I swung round startled to see Bassett a few feet from me.
How foolish I felt, so I said crossly,
‘Of course not. Who would want to meet me beneath the mistletoe?’
Bassett smiled that sarcastic smile of his.
‘Why me, of course,’ and with swift steps he reached me.
Bassett swept me to him. I was powerless against his strength although I pushed against his chest.
For a moment his dark eyes gazed mockingly into mine. Then he bent his head and kissed me hard—so hard that my mouth was bruised.
I was startled and angry at the thrill of excitement which stirred within me. And my anger sought revenge.
I opened my mouth very slightly so that his lip forced its way between my teeth. Then, like any savage dog, I bit sharply. Bassett sprang away and clapped his hand to his mouth but not before I saw that I had drawn blood. His face was dark with anger.
‘You little vixen,’ he mumbled, his voice shaking.
Suddenly, he roared with laughter, his tones ringing through the great ballroom.
‘The girl has spirit, but I’ll tame you yet,’ his voice softened, and an almost gentle expression crossed his face.
‘Yes, little Louella, I’ll tame you yet,’ and he strode from the room.
I tried to smile to myself, to feel some satisfaction, but I was surprised at the realisation that I was neither angry now, nor pleased with what I had done. I was ashamed I had behaved in such a manner. Bassett had every right to kiss me, I told myself, my cheeks flaming. It was only because he was a gentleman that he forced no further attentions on me, coupled with the fact, of course, that he did not love me.
And above my head the mistletoe swung in mockery.
The ball was a huge success and greatly enjoyed by all the villagers. Bassett told me afterwards that when he went there at midnight, many of the villagers in making their thanks to him, had complimented me on my organisation and said it was quite the best they had ever attended. This pleased Bassett and he seemed to have forgotten the affair of the kiss under the mistletoe. My womanly pride suffered a blow for obviously the kiss had meant nothing to him from the start, but I had tried, by repelling him so viciously, to turn it into something he had never intended.
I was glad, however, that the villagers had enjoyed themselves, for little did I realise when I worked so hard at the preparations that they were to have, little enjoyment for a long time after that night. Indeed, they were about to enter a time of severe hardship and misery. On the following morning, on the very first day of the New Year, the snows began.
At first, the snow seemed harmless enough, beautifying the countryside with its layer of virgin white. But day after day the snow continued to fall, until the whole surrounding land was enveloped in deep drifts. Many sheep were lost on the hillsides, and the men of the village fought their way through miles of snow in the hope of finding them.
Bassett soon shed any superiority as Master of Courtney and joined his men in the battle against the weather. Night after night, day after day, he worked side by side with his men. And they loved him for it.
This, then, was what the old men of the village had foretold in their warnings of flooding, for it soon became apparent to everyone that when a thaw set in, the hillside streams and the river itself would never cope with the vast deluge of water.
Preliminary steps were taken for the villagers to salvage as much as possible from their homes and the outbuildings at Courtney Hall, fortunately there were many, soon became crammed with the belongings of the villagers.
The threat of flooding hung over us for weeks, but it was not until the beginning of February that I knew the fear would become a reality. The snow stopped falling and with it came a spell of milder weather. The snow on the hills began to melt rapidly, aggravated by a wind which sprang up and reached gale force. It blew the remaining snow into drifts, and drove the water of the streams surging down into the valley to wreck the villagers’ homes.
I was coming down the wide main staircase when the huge door was flung wide. The gale, which had been raging all night, filled the hall, rippling the carpet and billowing the heavy curtains. As if part of the rushing wind, Bassett forged into the hall. Catching sight of me, he stopped and hesitated. He swept back his windblown hair impatiently with his hand.
His stern expression was even more serious, almost desperate, than I had thought possible.
Sir Bassett Courtney was a worried man.
Forgetting everything but the fact that something was obviously very wrong, I picked up my skirts and ran down the remaining few steps.
‘Bassett,’ I cried, ‘what is wrong?’
‘The river, Louella, the river has burst its banks—as we feared.’
‘Oh, Bassett, how dreadful. Has it reached the houses yet?’
‘No, thank God, but it won’t be long.’
He sat down in the heavy, carved oak chair and leant back wearily.
We looked at each other and both thought the same thing.
The tentative plans we had made for sheltering the homeless villagers must be put into action and quickly.
I tried to smile comfortingly, but now I was worried too. There was suffering and danger ahead for the Courtneys and their people.
And I knew who would get the blame.
I, who was believed to have stolen the Courtney dagger, would be held responsible by several for having brought disaster once more upon the Courtneys.
But there was nothing I could do. I could not undo something I had never done.
At that moment Lady Courtney followed by Millicent, Georgiana and even Evelyn who had recently come up from the village to stay at Courtney Hall because of the danger of flooding to her home, joined us in the hall.
Bassett turned to face them as he rose.
‘The river has bursts its banks. I’m sending most of the village folk whose homes are threatened up here. They’ll stay here until their homes are safe for them to return.’
Lady Courtney’s eyes held disapproval, Georgiana’s anxiety, but the look which passed between Millicent and Evelyn puzzled me the most. They looked really frightened.
‘Bassett, is this really necessary?’ Lady Courtney was saying. ‘All those dreadful people trampling round our home.’
‘Yes, it is necessary,’ Bassett said curtly and his eyes met his mother’s in determination.
Lady Courtney shrugged and turned away.
‘As you wish. ’Tis no more than I expected since we are now destined to misfortune and degradation since the theft of the dagger.’
The others followed her to the drawing-room and Bassett and I were alone again.
I could see Bassett was angry with his mother for her lack of compassion for the homeless villagers.
He turned to me. Taking me gently by the shoulders, he looked me straight in the eyes.
‘Louella, take care of the villagers for me.’ His voice hardened. ‘Mother is useless in a crisis like this.’
‘Yes, Bassett, I will. Don’t worry, we’ll see they have all they need.’
He smiled, but the worry never left his eyes. He brushed my forehead with his lips.
‘Thank you, dearest,’ he murmured, and before I could be sure of what he said, he had gone from the house and away down to the village to send the people up to Courtney Hall.
I went in search of Mary and Jonathan. There was a great deal we had to do to prepare food and beds for our guests.
Cook, bless her kind heart, was a marvel at making what provisions she had go a long way. She at once began to bake and cook, and soon trays of pastries, cakes and bowls of warm soup and the like were covering all parts of her vast kitchen.
Mary and I began to arrange the sleeping quarters. We decided to put the women and young children in the ballroom, and the men and older boys in the dining-room and library. The older folk would be given the bedrooms as far as possible with more comfort. Most of the villagers would be told to bring as much bedding as possible, for we had no spares other than the spare beds.
Soon the first families began to arrive and I went to the hall to greet them and to try to make them sure of their welcome.
Lady Courtney had disappeared. I expected she meant to stay out of the way, but I had no time to worry about her feelings.
Mrs Cartwright and her four children and Mrs Wain and her two came first.
‘Ever so good of the master, it is, ma’am, to ’ave us. But then, you’s kind folk.’
I took some of the heavy load of blankets and led the way.
‘Think nothing of it, Mrs Cartwright,’ I told her from behind an armful of blankets. ‘We can’t possibly leave you all down there in the village.’
We entered the ballroom, now transformed from the awe-inspiring grandeur of shimmering chandeliers and cold marble floors, to a warm inviting dormitory. Welcoming fires burnt in three huge grates down one side of the room and on the other the thick brocade curtains had been drawn across the long windows shutting out the wild, fearsome weather.
Mrs Cartwright was soon followed by more of her fellow villagers. Young and old alike—calm and resigned to whatever Fate held for them, grateful for the shelter we offered them.
The old people were almost too awestruck to enter the luxurious bedrooms and each vowed they would not dare to sleep on the bed.
Comforting them, supplying them with food, cradling whimpering babies, I was soon very tired and thankful at last to return to my own bedroom and fling myself on the bed.
But I could not rest long, for Mary soon fetched me to go to little Albert Whittaker, a baby of ten months, whose mother, a young girl of twenty, was beside herself with worry over him.
The child was running a high fever and I knew Charles was the only person who could help us.
‘Stay with Mrs Whittaker, Mary. I’ll fetch Dr Corby.’
‘I’ve just seen him with old Tom in the Blue Room, madam,’ Mary said.
But when I reached the bedroom I found old Tom alone, peacefully dozing in a chair by the fire.
Hurriedly, I ran in search of Charles. He was not in his own rooms in the east wing. I approached the main stairs and heard his voice in the hall below. I was about to call out to him, when I realised he was talking to Evelyn. So instead I went down the stairs and in so doing could not help but hear their conversation.
‘Charles,’ Evelyn was saying, ‘ I must go home. There is something I must fetch.’
Her eyes were wide with fear.
Charles gripped her shoulders almost cruelly.
‘Don’t be so foolish, Evelyn. The house may be swept away any moment. It is already flooded. How do you expect to get there?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t know,’ she answered wildly, ‘but I must go—I must.’
‘Why?’
‘I—can’t tell you.’
‘I’ll go, if it is so important,’ he sighed. ‘What is it you want fetching?’
Evelyn’s glance dropped to the floor and she turned away as Charles loosened his grip.
‘No,’ she whispered, clearly still distressed. ‘It’s not that important. You must not go.’
And she left the hall.
Charles ran his hands through his hair.
‘Whatever has got into her? I’ve never seen her like this.’
‘Charles,’ I said urgently, ‘I’m sorry to interrupt, but young Mabel Whittaker’s baby, Albert, seems very ill—can you come and look at him?’
Charles’ love and concern for his patients pushed all thoughts of family problems aside immediately and he followed me swiftly to the child.
Albert’s eyes were large, dark circles in his hot little face. He lay on the bed wrapped in a shawl, his breathing a rasping, painful sound. He was quiet, but his eyes, even though so young, showed fear and pain.
Charles was gentle and examined the child with the minimum of fuss.
‘Pneumonia,’ he said softly to me. ‘Don’t alarm the mother—we must do all we can.’
The next few hours were a turmoil of following Charles’ instructions in nursing the sick baby. Charles persuaded the distraught mother to rest and leave the care of her child to us. Her trust in Dr Corby was implicit and soon she was asleep in the next room. But there was no rest for Charles or me that night. He said the fever would reach a climax around two o’clock in the morning.
I hardly remember what we did except watch and wait and be there to ease the poor mite’s breathing as best we could.
Bassett arrived home about midnight and Georgiana, still helping the villagers settle for the night, told him of our vigil. He came to the bedroom where we watched over little Albert.
He stood for a long time looking down at the baby whose tiny finger clasped mine tightly.
‘Will he be all right, Charles?’ he asked softly.
Charles, his fair hair ruffled, his brow wet in the heat of the room which was necessary for the child in such a fever, replied,
‘We shall know by two in the morning, if not before.’
Bassett nodded.
‘I’ll look in again then.’
I thought he seemed about to speak to me and I looked up at him. His face was in shadow from the low light on the table, so I could not see him clearly—just the clear-cut outline of his firm jaw, the wide brow and arrogant nose.
But he said no more and went quietly from the room and I turned my attention back to little Albert.
Charles and I did not speak much. We were both tired, and all our efforts were concentrated upon caring for the child.
The minutes dragged, but two o’clock came at last and passed.
About half-an-hour later than Charles had anticipated the baby’s fever broke and we passed the crisis safely. We both heaved a thankful prayer of relief and though no doubt Charles was used to such efforts as a doctor, for me it was the first time I had helped to save a life, for Charles said we had certainly done just that between us.
A little later Bassett returned, still fully clothed, and I knew he was too worried and restless to sleep.
‘There is no more Louella can do,’ Charles said to Bassett. ‘I’ll stay with the child. See she gets some rest, Bassett.’
Now that the crisis was over, the exhaustion seemed to sweep over me and I could hardly find the strength to walk to my room. Bassett, his arm round me, helped from the room, leaving Charles still sitting by the child’s bedside.
I stumbled along beside him and suddenly felt his strong arms lift me and carry me the rest of the way to my room. I remembered him laying me gently on the bed and then I knew no more as I fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.
The next thing I knew was Georgiana tiptoeing through the door and smiling into my weary eyes late the next morning.
She placed a breakfast tray before me.
‘Poor Louella,’ she said, ‘you seem to be bearing all the visitors’ troubles.’
I sighed.
‘How is Albert?’
‘Still sleeping. Charles says he will pull through, but it was a close thing a few hours ago.’
I nibbled the toast, not really hungry—I was still too tired.
Georgiana sat on the bed and said, a little too casually.
‘Did you see Evelyn last night? She’s not in her room and her bed looks as though it’s not been slept in.’
I looked up at her, startled.
‘Only when I fetched Charles to the baby.’
‘I don’t want to worry Charles, just now, he’s so tired,’ Georgiana frowned, ‘ but I have the uneasy feeling she may have been stupid enough to try and go home—I know she wanted to.’
‘Oh no,’ I sat up quickly nearly spilling the tray, and grasped Georgiana’s arm.
‘Of course, now I remember. That’s what she and Charles were arguing about when I fetched him. Go and tell Charles at once. She may be in danger.’
‘But I don’t know for certain she’s gone.’
‘Of course she has, if she’s missing,’ I said impatiently. ‘She was so determined to go home.’
But Bassett was the one whose help Georgiana sought. She wanted, at first, to protect her husband from worry. Bassett set out immediately with two of the villagers to go to the Corbys’ house to see if Evelyn was there, for a thorough search through Courtney Hall revealed that she had certainly disappeared somewhere.
But as they were gone a long time, Charles could be kept ignorant no longer. By this time I had risen and went with Georgiana to tell him.
Charles was very angry to think that Evelyn had not only disobeyed him, but had caused others to place themselves in danger by going to look for her.
‘The foolish girl,’ he said marching up and down. ‘How could she? The house is already flooded—I told her.’
A cold fear began to spread through me. I could see that Charles feared for Evelyn’s safety, but I, I realised with shock, feared for Bassett now that he had gone to that very house to look for her.
Georgiana too seemed to sense our mounting fear for she took Charles’ hand and held out her other hand to me.
‘Come,’ she said firmly, ‘we shall go to the front door to watch for their return.’
The howling wind tore at our clothes as we opened the huge door. Black clouds scudded overhead threatening more rain to add to the already overflowing river.
Bassett’s horse rounded the sweep of the drive and he rode straight up to the front door. He had been gone some three hours in search of Evelyn and now he returned alone, without even the searchers who had gone with him.
I think we all knew he had grave news from the look on his face as he entered the hall. We waited, as Millicent and Lady Courtney joined us, to hear what he had to say.
‘Charles,’ Bassett’s tone was deep. ‘I have bad news. Evelyn reached home, but was swept away on her return to the Hall. We have found her body—the villagers are bringing her here.’
Georgiana put her arms round her husband and tried to comfort him. He swallowed hard and nodded to Bassett.
‘Thank you for going in search of her,’ he said hoarsely.
‘I fear there is more to tell you, Charles. I’m sorry, at such a time, but I must.’
Bassett took from beneath his mud-bespattered cloak a parcel of cloth.
He unfolded this blue cloth and there across the palm of his hand lay the shimmering Courtney dagger.
Bassett’s voice was low and solemn and his eyes turned apologetically to Charles’ stunned face.
‘This was found beneath Evelyn’s cloak, wrapped in this cloth. She was bringing it back to Courtney Hall.’
‘Then …?’ Charles dragged his eyes, mesmerised, from the dagger to meet Bassett’s gaze. ‘Then Evelyn—took it?’ he whispered and added, with a trace of anger even through his grief, ‘ and let Louella
take the blame?’
Before anyone could answer, a sob escaped Millicent’s lips and
the stricken look on her face caught Bassett’s, indeed everyone’s
attention.
‘What is it, Millicent?’ he said.
She flung herself forward and clung to Bassett’s arm.
‘Bassett, Bassett, forgive me. Had I known all this would happen …’ and
she began to weep uncontrollably.
‘Did you have something to do with this, Millicent?’ His tone was none too gentle, but his arm was about her shoulders.
She nodded miserably and her whisper was barely audible to the rest of us.
‘I planned it—with Evelyn.’
‘Why?’ Bassett asked incredulously.
‘Bassett,’ her eyes looked up into his appealingly, ‘ need you ask?’
Suddenly, he became aware of us all watching and waiting.
‘I think we had better discuss this in my study, Millicent.’
And with his arm still about her, they left us and disappeared.
No one knew what passed behind the closed door of Bassett’s study, but
Millicent appeared almost an hour later, dry-eyed but subdued and almost a
changed person.
They joined us in the drawing-room. Lady Courtney watched them enter and
immediately Bassett’s eyes met hers. The look which passed between them
told me all I needed to know.
Lady Courtney, if not a prime mover in the theft of the dagger and the
subsequent blame upon me, had not been entirely ignorant of the true
facts, I was certain.
But Bassett evidently understood her motives, as, indeed, did I
now, and from the expression in his eyes, I knew he
pitied her.
But Lady Courtney pursed her lips and looked away, as if she despised his
pity.
The matter was not referred to again except between Charles and me. The poor man, stricken with natural grief for the sister who had sacrificed so much to ensure his career, had the additional sadness of knowing that she had participated in the plot of theft which had overshadowed all our lives for so long.
‘Louella, how can I ask your forgiveness?’ he said to me on the day of Evelyn’s funeral, as we, Georgiana, Charles and I, waited in the small sitting-room where he and Georgiana had found so much happiness, in their own suite of rooms.
‘Charles, my dear, that is all past. Please forget it, for all our sakes, not least your own. It was only because of her love for you, she dreaded losing you to anyone—to me as she thought.’
‘You’re so generous and good, Louella,’ Georgiana said, taking my hand. ‘ Evelyn must have been so jealous of you, poor thing.’
‘She never had a normal, happy life,’ said Charles. ‘Mother and father were so demanding. I escaped their clutches when I went to college, but poor Evelyn, by the time her release came at their death, had forgotten or never learned how to enjoy life. But how I wish she had never done this, and to you, Louella, of all people.’
‘Please try to forget it,’ I begged, ‘and think of her only with affection. She is to be pitied, not blamed or despised.’
I must admit that it was because I was so relieved that the truth had been discovered and that I was proved blameless in Bassett’s eyes, that I had no feeling of anger or peevishness against those who had wronged me. I merely wanted it to be forgotten.
‘Very well, I’ll try,’ and Charles smiled a little. ‘Come, it is time we went.’
The funeral, which took place only three days after Evelyn’s body had been found, was held amidst the gales and torrential rain which still buffeted and massacred our valley. Fortunately, the little church remained, like Courtney Hall, unscathed. How the funeral arrangements had been made, I do not know. How different it was from Sir Hugh’s final farewell, when not a soul in the village had stayed away, when very few eyes were devoid of tears for the gentle man they had loved and whose son they adored.
Evelyn was laid to rest in a corner of the churchyard not far from the shadow of the proud Courtney tombstones.
Only Charles, Georgiana, Bassett and I attended the funeral as mourners, and as soon as we returned to the Hall from the church, we were plunged immediately back into the trouble which surrounded us all.
Bassett immediately changed his clothing and left the Hall to go out into the wild storm to look for more lost animals reported to be missing from the higher slopes.
Charles was soon called to attend to his patients. Several of the older folk were beginning to suffer from the shock and the young doctor was needed everywhere at once, it seemed. Georgiana and I were also finding it difficult to find enough food to feed all our guests. Supplies were dwindling fast, and with the road cut off out of the valley we could see no way of getting further supplies.
‘When will it end, Louella?’ she said miserably. ‘Now the dagger is back, surely it must stop.’
‘I fear the dagger has little to do with it,’ I said, ‘I only wish it had, for then we should be nearing the end of our troubles.’
Little did I know how right I was in my disbelief in the dagger’s powers, for as the night closed in once more, bringing with it a worsening of the fearsome gale, Bassett had still not returned to the Hall.